Did you guys see the movie ‘Detachment?’
If not, you should check it out. I found the film to be more than interesting. Sad and difficult to watch, yes, but very important. There are a lot of things that I don’t want to imagine, but it is imperative that that I imagine them so that I don’t become blinded by my own reality.
And I am. There are days when I become so lost in my pain that I feel as if I am the only person bleeding. But more often than not, I see it. I see it in others. It’s endlessly interesting to me to see the measures that people will take to preserve their hearts- almost to the point of never letting anybody see them again.
And that’s one thing I’ve just never been able to grasp, man. I have been told throughout my life that wearing my heart on my sleeve is unwise. And maybe it is, but I just can’t let myself get there. I mean, what are we here for if not to enjoy and help the people we landed here with? Sometimes I feel that if I don’t pass my love onto other people that I’m going to overflow. Some would look at my personality like a whore in a revolving door, but I would consider myself a majestic fountain.
I don’t believe that everything happens for a reason. I don’t believe in karma. I don’t believe that there is a force of good that chooses to ignore us or to smile upon us. But I do believe in making the best of it while we’re here, and that means lending a hand or an ear or a heart.
And yes, occasionally I lend them to people who don’t deserve the charity. I’ve cried, looked in the mirror, saw the size of my pores, and cried harder. I’ve actually thought about punching someone in the vag.
But I never pull up my sleeves.
Because there are people out there who do deserve it. There are people who speak and love and give. It’s these people I remember- not the peckers that screwed me over. I don’t want to be detached. I want to feel. I want to feel everything.